


To Rise Among The Fallen

by oneiriad



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Post Lucifer season 4, Post-Episode: s04e14 Nip/Stuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 02:59:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18791608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneiriad/pseuds/oneiriad
Summary: Hell is nothing like John expected it to be.





	To Rise Among The Fallen

Hell looks like a seedy urban nightmarescape. A little more modern than John might have expected, but really, even Hell must move with the times, right?

John walks down the seedy backstreets, which seems to be the only sort of street around, trying to avoid drawing the attention of the streetwalkers with too sharp smiles and misplaced-seeming entities in poorly fitted suits, waiting in endless lines in front of non-descript doors guarded by horned beasts with their arms crossed.

A sound like a thousand howling banshees is the only warning he gets before a car with a hood ornament of something serpentine comes roaring towards him, sparks flying where the doors scrape against the side's of the decrepit buildings on either side. He just barely manages to clamber up a rickety fire escape and out of the way of the laughing things in it.

Lacking any reason not to, he keeps climbing until he finds himself on the roof. The building is not the highest around, but it still affords him a fairly decent view of his surroundings. His immediate surroundings appear to be more of the modern city Hell, but a bit further out, things appear – less modern, more medieval and glowing with infernal flames. There's castles – huge, imposing structures – and a bit further out a tower that seems high enough to reach all the way back to Earth.

He makes his way across the rooftops. He finds them less crowded and presumably safer than the streets, even if he occasionally has to dodge a gargoyle turning to claw at him, as well as a few orgies trying to draw him in. Eventually, though, he runs out of buildings.

Back on ground level, he finds himself face to face with where the urban landscape ends. It's – not what he expected. For one thing, it still seems in the process of being built.

”Hey! You! Yeah, you in the trenchcoat!”

The demon is about twice the size of a Sumo wrestler, putrid green, with curled ram horns and tattered wings. It's wearing a hard hat and carrying a clipboard.

”What the fuck are you doing wandering outside your assigned zone? You know Belial wants this entire circle re-done ASAP!” It gestures angrily at him with a pencil.

”I'm sorry, guv,” John tries. ”I seem to have gotten turned around. I was supposed to be working in Neron's area?”

”Neron? Who the fuck is Neron?! Wait...” and it lifts its tail, holding a walkie-talkie to its ear and pressing the button with its pointy tail. ”Hey, Boss! Got a guy asking about a Neron. Ever hear of that fellow? Wait, he's a what? With a Fairy? Gross.”

It carelessly throws the walkie-talkie over its shoulder, ignoring the yelp from behind it. Then it turns back to John.

”You're in the wrong circle for Neron. Soul traders belong in the Gull. That way,” and it points with its tail. ”You're in luck. I've got a couple of boys taking a shipment of fresh-forged iron maidens in that direction. You can ride with them.”

And so John Constantine soon finds himself squashed between a couple of demons in the front of a truck, wearing a hard hat - ”Regulations” - and trying not to have the wrong opinions about said demons' favourite blood-and-guts-bowl teams.

The place they drop him off is still seedy, but more in a Here Be Yuppies kinda way. Lots of imposing office buildings and the occasional scream as somebody jumps from the top of one of them to end up a bloody bit of splatter on the sidewalks. It's still mostly backstreets and dark alleys, though. Clearly, Hell's city planners aren't big on too much variety.

Right, to business. If he was an evil demon bent on taking over Earth, where would he hide a...

”John!” somebody exclaims, wrapping their arms around him in a hug abrupt enough to knock the air out of his lungs. ”It's so good to see you!”

”... Ray? Is that you?”

It certainly looks like Ray, happy puppy smile and all, once John wrestles free and shoves him back at arm's length. Still dressed in the clothes he wore when he gave up fighting Neron, though somewhat worse for the wear, as if he's been wearing them for a long time. He's also significantly scruffier than John's used to.

”Yeah, it's me. Promise. I've missed you guys! It's been weeks!”

”Don't take this the wrong way, mate, but it's barely been two days,” says John, while pulling Ray towards a nearby alley. He suspects they've already drawn too much attention as is. Demons really don't strike him as big on public hugging.

”It's been weeks for me,” Ray states, dragging him back into the hug as soon as John stops dragging him. ”Maybe Hell's like Narnia? Or, no, that wouldn't work, cause Aslan's Jesus, so...”

”But time spent in Hell is longer than outside,” John nods, patting Ray awkwardly on the shoulder. ”Sounds reasonable enough. Make the torture last even longer. Speaking of...”

He pushes Ray back again and frowns.

”Don't take this the wrong way, mate, but what are you doing just wandering about? I expected to find you on some rack in that bastard's lair.”

”I was! Well, not on a rack – he just stuck me in this cage in a dungeon. But there were people on racks, and demons torturing them.”

Ray's face gets a haunted look.

”How did you escape?”

”One day, one of the demons – Dromos, I think he was called – just vanished. And a couple of days later, the other one followed. After that, there were nobody to stop me from picking the lock and just walking out the building.”

”That's weird, but I guess we shouldn't look that gift horse too closely in the mouth. Guess we just need to figure out how to get you back home, Raymondo, and back in your own body.”

”'Tis as I thought,” a shadow growls, detaching itself from the general gloom of the alley and standing to block the exit. ”He'll be most wroth.”

It's instinct more than anything that makes John move, makes him push Ray behind him and raise his arms, letting the magic flow through him to start conjuring forth a protective shield.

The demon doesn't actually make a move towards them, though.

It just stands there, head slightly cocked, studying them. Giving them plenty of time to return the favour.

As far as demons go, it's not huge. A head or two higher than a man, with sallow skin and glowing red eyes. It's dressed in some form of chainmail and a tattered cloak hangs from its shoulders. Eventually, it raises a clawed hand and points at them, accusingly.

”A man alive or two. No business here have you!”

”Couldn't have said it better myself, mate. So how about you move out of the way and let us get out of your – uhm – horns?”

The demon shakes its head.

”A living soul as pure as driven snow. That requires an explanation before I let it go.”

”An explanation?! One of you bastards made poor Ray here hand over his body and put him down here? Ain't that what you're all about? Damning innocents?!”

”The damned and demons only dwell in Hell. But of the body stealer more do tell.”

”About Neron? What do you want to know about him?” Ray asks. ”I mean – wait. Should I rhyme? Is that the polite thing around here? Uhm, let me try. Neron the really bad...”

The demon makes a dismissive gesture, cutting Ray off.

”It's _my_ privilege and curse. A Rhymer must speak in verse.”

”He's a demon. He possessed poor Ray's body the way he used to possess my boyfriend's before we got him out of him. And now he's brought a Fairy Godmother called Tabitha to Earth, and we don't really know what they're up to.”

”Except it's definitely no good,” Ray adds, because he's a nerd.

The demon growls. Its teeth look quite pointy.

”Uhm. Why do you care about Neron anyway?” Ray asks.

”Better than most I know, how, many years ago, our King laid down the law to ban a demon from shanghaiing the body of a man.”

”Wait. Are you saying that what Neron's doing is illegal? According to Hell law? That's – unexpected.”

”Well, he's obviously doing it anyway, so how do you explain that?” John demands.

”The law against possession was clear, enforced by whom the demons fear, but suddenly he wasn't here.”

The demon looks – well, John's not really an expert on demonic facial expressions, but he'd almost say he looks embarrassed.

”Not here? Is that like a riddle?” Ray asks. ”Whom the demons fear, that'd be – your King? Do you mean the Devil? He forbid possession, except for some reason the Devil – left?”

The demon opens its mouth, but something's been nagging at John's memory and he gets there first.

”I heard a rumour a while back, about some sorcerer running a nightclub in LA, going by the name Lucifer Morningstar. That wasn't a sorcerer, was it? What? Did the Devil take a holiday to run off and practice his piano playing or something?”

The demon shrugs.

”The King's business alone is the past, but he's back on his throne at last.”

”Bully for you. That just leaves us to clean up his mess!”

”You – wouldn't happen to know how to get a soul back in a possessed body, would you?” Ray asks, hopefully, because he's an idiot who always thinks everybody will be helpful. Even a demon.

A demon walking right up to them and John belatedly realizes he's lowered his shield. But all the demon does is poke at something in the air above Ray.

Something that goes plink.

John frowns at the vague shimmer in the air. It looks like – some sort of golden chain? And now that he's spotted it, he can follow it down, see where it wraps oh so delicately around Raymond's throat, like a fancy, nearly invisible collar.

”Body and soul linked in gold. We make Neron relinquish his claim, and it's back from whence you came.”

”What, like bungee-jumping for souls? That's awfully convenient, but I don't know how you expect us to just make Neron... wait a second. We?”

”You're going to help us?” Ray lights up and the demon blinks a few times, as if literally blinded by him, before nodding once.

”Don't take this the wrong way, mate, but what's in it for you? Demons aren't exactly famous for their altruism.”

”John, come on...”

”Upon Neron our king would frown, and if I were the one to run him to ground...”

Which, to be fair, sounds like a decent enough reason. Who doesn't want the King of Hell to owe you a reward? Still, John can't shake the feeling that they are making a bad call, even as Ray steps around him and towards the demon.

”Well, if we're going to be working together, we really should introduce ourselves. Hello, I'm Ray Palmer,” and he offers the demon his hand.

It disappears almost entirely in its massive claw.

”Etrigan's the name and afoot is the game.”


End file.
